


Take It Easy

by Dandy



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 06:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14255088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dandy/pseuds/Dandy
Summary: But the nearest motel is Longwythe. It's hours away, and Ignis feels like he can barely make it the hour to Hammerhead, much less keep going.But Noctis is looking at him expectantly, and Prompto has wide eyes full of hope, and Gladio isn't even trying to help him by saying anything about camping, and Ignis knows he's beat.“Very well. Longwythe it is.”An un-anon from the kinkmeme.





	Take It Easy

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was: 
> 
> I just had Iggy drive from Hammerhead to Ravatogh after hunting beasts for two days and about three days in these damn sewers (UGH I hate the sewers).  
> And srsly - This guy doesn't even need ONE break? And just 1 can of Ebony? He's just powering through? I don't think this is a good idea, Iggy...

Three days.

That's how long they were down in the sewers, winding their way down turn after turn, fending off daemon after daemon. It was supposed to be just a quick trip for the headlights Cindy had given them a tip about, but it had turned into an ongoing nightmare, with only the treasures they had picked up on the way to show for it. And that was after days in the desert sands of Leide, hunting down marks for coin and the occasional ingredient for Takka. And _that_ was after driving all the way to Leide from Ravatogh.

Ignis can't remember the last time he had a full night's sleep.

He has a strange jittery feeling that permeates through every muscle, making him feel on edge even though they're back at the car and, for the moment, free from danger. There's been a pain growing in his temple since early this morning (or perhaps last night – hard to tell in a sewer) that's only exacerbated by the hot midday sun glaring off the sand. His body has been beaten and battered, and though it's unmarred now thanks to Noctis's magic, he can still feel the residual ache under his skin from each strike, the protests of his legs from being upright and moving for so long, and the exhaustion in his arms from constant fights with his daggers.

And his throat is parched, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. He's likely dehydrated – he should drink some water while they drive.

“I'm so glad to have sky above me again,” are the words that whoosh out of Prompto's mouth as he collapses into the front passenger seat. His wiry limbs sprawl out across every available service, and he leans his head back. “I almost forgot what it looks like...”

“Quit being so dramatic,” Gladio grunts as he takes his own seat. He's more banged up than the rest of them, the bruises standing out on his bare arms, because he kept refusing potions as the days wore on. _I'm perfectly fine, it's you guys who are the pansy-asses._ “You're alive, aren't you?”

“Barely.”

“I could sleep for a whole week,” says Noctis in agreement, flopping next to Gladio. He immediately curls up, head resting on the seat. “Starting right now.”

They're all in rough shape, Ignis notes, lowering himself into the driver's seat and holding back a wince when his muscles protest. He's not any worse off than them. Sure, they've all been able to nap in the car while he's been driving, but that's because he won't let anyone else drive. And sure, Ignis ended up spending the few hours before his turn to guard during their one stop to rest in the sewers lying awake, and wasn't able to get back to sleep after, but that's no one's problem but his own.

Still, he feels tired all the way down to his bones, and he desperately wants to lie down and sleep. They can't do it here, not so close to an Imperial checkpoint, but he knows he has to rest, soon.

“I'll drive us to Hammerhead, and we'll rent the caravan for the night,” he says, sliding the Regalia's keys into the ignition. She purrs to life, the only one of them not yet past the brink of exhaustion.

Noctis groans, rubbing at his eyes with his fingers. “A caravan, Ignis? Really? We have enough money for a real bed after all those hunts, surely.”

“Yes, but it's the closest stop that isn't a haven, and we have to drop off the headlights with Cindy anyway.”

“We can do that and then drive on to the next motel, right?” Noctis leans up to look at him in the rearview mirror. “Come on, Ignis. Soft beds, warm sheets. A real shower.”

Ignis has to admit to himself that it does sound heavenly. After all that they've been through the last week or so, it would be nice to take a shower in something bigger than a cramped stall (or even – Astrals willing – soak in a tub for awhile!), and then go to sleep on a full-sized mattress and not a tiny bunk he has to squish into...

But the nearest motel is _Longwythe_. It's hours away, and Ignis feels like he can barely make it the hour to Hammerhead, much less keep _going_.

But Noctis is looking at him expectantly, and Prompto has wide eyes full of hope, and Gladio isn't even _trying_ to help him by saying anything about camping, and Ignis knows he's beat.

“Very well. Longwythe it is.”

Noctis smiles as he settles back down, muttering, “Thanks, Specs,” while Prompto gives a little whoop from the passenger seat. Gladio doesn't say anything, only pulls out his book and settles in for the ride to Hammerhead.

And while it's really not good for someone suffering dehydration to drink coffee, Ignis forgoes the water, and pulls out an Ebony.

* * *

 

They make it to Hammerhead a little over an hour later. Cindy's waiting for them outside the garage, cocking her hip and giving a slow shake of her head when she sees the state they're in.

“Well you boys look like you done one too many rounds on the rodeo bull.” She runs her critical gaze over the Regalia, and seems satisfied. “But the old girl's still alright, I see. Did you get the headlights?”

“'Course,” says Noctis breezily, handing one over. Cindy holds the light in her hand like it's something precious, and in a way, it is. Lights like those could save lives all across Eos.

“Well, ain't that somethin'.” She whistles low. “Never thought I'd have my hands on some of these.” She looks back up at them. “I'll have 'em on the Regalia in a jiffy. Are y'all staying the night here?”

“Nah.” Noctis shakes his head. “We'll grab a bite from Takka and be on our way once you're done.”

“You fellas just keep goin', don'tcha?” Cindy gives her head another shake, but it's fond this time, and she steps past them to climb in the Regalia. “I'll let you know when I'm done.”

They leave her to go into the diner, sinking onto the stools around Takka's counter. Noctis hands in proof of their hunts and then they all look at the menu, chatting amicably while they decide what they want.

Or, at least, Gladio, Noctis, and Prompto chat amicably. Ignis tries, he honestly, really does, to pay attention to the conversation, but it feels like the words are swimming towards him through water. Everything sounds slow and distorted, and each laugh from Prompto or amused snort from Gladio seems to pound at his growing headache with all the force of a hammer. He feels incredibly stifled, even with the air conditioner running and the fans aimed at him, and his stomach twists. He still feels the same jittery feeling he had at the start of the drive.

“-gy? Hey.”

He blinks, rubs at his temple, then looks over. Gladio's staring at him, a frown on his face. No, they're _all_ staring at him, with a mixture of confusion and worry.

Ignis blinks, trying to fight past the growing sluggishness. “Yes?”

“You okay? We lost you there for a second.”

Ignis blinks again, slowly, and then his head catches up with his ears. “Yes. My apologies, I was absorbed in my thoughts and wasn't paying attention.”

The others are still looking at him, but something about his tone must sound in control, because they all relax. “Takka was asking you what you want,” Noctis supplies helpfully, and Ignis gives a curt nod, looking back at the menu again.

None of the options sound at all appealing; just thinking about food makes his stomach cramp, and he's suddenly _sure_ that he can't let anything within five feet of his mouth right now.

“Actually, I'm not that hungry,” he says, getting up from the bar. “I'll eat some of our rations from the car.”

“Come on, Ignis, at least get some fries or somethin',” Noctis chides, and Ignis tries to fight off any revulsion. His legs feel like they don't exist anymore, and walking is hard, but he manages to step away, raising a hand in dismissal.

“I'm perfectly fine, thank you. I'd like to get a head start on stocking up before we head out.”

“Dude, you sure?” asks Prompto, sounding concerned. Ignis nods, not breaking his stride toward the door. He _has_ to get out of this diner.

“Quite. I'll meet you back at the car when it's ready.”

They don't try to stop him again as he steps outside, already feeling better without the eyes of his friends or the smells of the food around him. At least, he thinks he feels better, but the jittery feeling is still ever present and his legs still feel ephemeral, like they belong to someone else.

He staggers his way to the store and walks in front of some shelves, staring blankly at them for some time without comprehending anything. His mind drifts, and for awhile he doesn't have any rational thoughts.

He comes back to himself when the clerk asks if he needs help finding anything, and he snaps back to attention, all his focus on his mental checklist of things they need so he doesn't slide back into that strange waking comatose he seems to be subject to lately.

When he rounds the aisle to the drinks, he grabs one case of Ebony. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he grabs another.

He has a feeling he's going to need every drop.

* * *

 

Cindy drives the car out of the garage not long after the others are finished eating, and Ignis comes out of the store to meet them, plastic bags and the Ebony cases clutched, white-knuckled, in his fists. He hurriedly comes and slides them into the trunk of the Regalia, hoping no one noticed.

Cindy doesn't linger long explaining the details of the headlights, and for that he thanks the Astrals. He doesn't know if he would be able to handle another second longer without sleep. He's running on fumes as it is.

As soon as she's done and has bid them farewell, they resume their places in the Regalia. Everyone's quiet, sleepy and full of food, and no one talks much as Ignis puts the car in drive and pulls away from the station.

It's about two and a half hours from here to Longwythe. Everything's swimming around Ignis like he's seeing it through a fisheye lens, but he can make it. He always makes it.

His hands grip the steering wheel a little too tight, but he forces himself to stay alert, and soldier on.

* * *

 

Gladio finishes a chapter in his book and pauses to look up for a bit.

They're about an hour and a half out of Hammerhead. Next to him, Noctis is still dead to the world, like he has been since they put the car in drive. Prompto had passed out pretty quickly, too, but he can't sleep on rides like Noctis can. Now, he's awake, but quiet, opting to fiddle with his camera or his phone instead of trying to talk to anyone. Ignis is quiet as well, one hand on the wheel and another around a can of Ebony.

It's pretty peaceful like this. The sun is starting to dip in the horizon, though it's not quite sunset yet, painting the desert around them a gorgeous gold. The Regalia's steady hum is a soothing lullaby. Gladio is seriously considering following Noctis's lead, when suddenly Prompto speaks up from the front seat.

“Hey, Iggy? You doing okay there?”

“Yes, Prompto, I am perfectly fine.”

“Okay,” says Prompto, but his tone doesn't sound sure. “You're just looking a little, uh... pale?”

“Oh good,” Ignis responds dryly. “The sunscreen is doing its job then.”

Prompto squirms in his seat, then looks back at his phone. A few more minutes pass, during which Gladio returns to his book.

“If you want, I can drive for awhile,” Prompto pipes up again.

“After the last time? Absolutely not.”

“I won't do that again!” Prompto protests, sounding a bit indignant. “I'm just saying, maybe you should switch out with someone. You're looking pretty-”

“I already said, I am _fine_ , Prompto,” Ignis says, voice wearing thin on patience. “Now will you please let me concentrate on the road?”

Silence blankets the car again for about another ten minutes. Gladio reads through almost another full chapter, and is just getting to a pretty good part, when Prompto says, “Are you _absolutely sure_ you don't want to-”

“Prompto, if you ask me again, Astrals help me I will make you _walk_ to Longwythe.”

Gladio looks up from his book at the sharp tone of Ignis's voice, just in time to see Prompto flinch back into his seat. They've never heard Ignis sound mad like that, biting words and frayed patience, at least not at any one of them.

It's weird, but Ignis seems completely unapologetic about it, even as Prompto leans into the door and tries to make himself as small as possible in response. Instead, he stares out at the road, taking bigger gulps of his Ebony and white-knuckling the steering wheel.

“...Stop trying to trick him into letting you drive, blondie,” says Gladio finally, a joking tone to his voice, hoping to lighten the mood a bit. The tension in the car eases, but doesn't go away completely, and they lapse back into silence.

Not ten minutes later, the car suddenly swerves, and Prompto yells, “Iggy!”

Gladio drops his book as he looks up, eyes widening in surprise when he sees Prompto lunging to grab the steering wheel from Ignis. His first thought is that Prompto must have seen a dog, or something else on the side of the road, but he can't believe Prompto would go so far as to actually _take the wheel_ just to swerve them over and help some lost pet.

“Prompto, what're you-” he starts, but then his eyes land on Ignis, and he suddenly understands.

Ignis is slumped forward, eyes closed. He moves back and forth with the now wildly swerving car, like a tumbleweed in the breeze – no agency to his own movements. He's out like a light, and Prompto, leaned as far as he can across the console, is doing his best to steer the Regalia away from ditches and oncoming traffic.

“What!?” Noctis wakes up with a start at the erratic movements of the car. There's a flash, and his sword is in his hand, though hanging out of the car from where he's still sprawled in his seat. He looks around for the threat he thinks is upon them, eyes wide and confused.

“Put that sword away before you hurt someone!” Gladio snaps at him, before focusing his attention on the front seat. Prompto is yelping and crying out with every swerve, but so far he's managed to keep them alive.

“Prompto, you have to stop this car!” he commands, leaning over the passenger seat to look at him.

“H-how am I supposed to do that!?”

“I don't know! Climb into his lap if you have to!”

He must take Gladio's words to heart, because he does start climbing around the gearshift and into Ignis's lap. Noctis, finally understanding what's going on, leans around the driver seat and puts his own hand on the wheel, helping hold it steady while Prompto gets himself over.

Somehow, he manages to push Ignis's feet off the pedals and get his own down, bringing the car to a jerky stop. Then he drives, slowly, and pulls them over at the next flat patch of land they pass.

Once the car is in park, Prompto opens the driver door and tumbles out, looking like he might be sick. He manages to hold it together, though, and stands up after a minute, rubbing his arms and fidgeting to release the rest of his adrenaline.

Noctis also gets out of the car, moving to lean over Ignis and look into his face, blatantly worried. Gladio is the last out, coming over to stand behind Noctis.

“Ignis!? Come on, Ignis, talk to me,” Noctis begs, shaking Ignis's arm. Gladio watches for a moment before speaking.

“Prompto, what happened?” He turns to the younger man, standing only a foot away so he can see.

“I-I dunno.” He shakes his head. “Ignis was looking really pale and kind of out of it, but he seemed otherwise fine one second, and the next-” Prompto slaps his palms together, “- _out_ , just like that.”

“Ignis?” Noctis sounds like he's about to panic, both hands on his advisor now. “Ignis, come on, wake up, please!”

“Calm down.” Gladio pushes Noctis aside so he can look at Ignis. He can't see any wounds that would cause an issue, and, when he feels for it, Ignis's pulse seems mostly normal, at least for someone who just fell unconscious. He sighs, leaning back.

“I'm guessing his exhaustion caught up to him. That's all.”

“Exhaustion,” Noctis repeats, incredulous. “We're all tired...”

“But we've all been resting, and Iggy's been driving,” says Prompto, understanding in his voice.

Noctis's eyes widen, and though his face doesn't give too much away, Gladio can see the guilt in his eyes. “That's why he wanted to stay at Hammerhead. He's so tired...”

“Why didn't he just let one of us drive?” asks Prompto, but they all already know the answer to that. There's no way Ignis would trust the rest of them with driving while sleepy. He thought he could only trust himself. And they found they couldn't entirely blame him.

“We should have just stayed in the caravan,” Noctis gasps out, the guilt starting to creep into his voice now, and Gladio knows he has to pull them together. There will be time for this later.

“Yeah, well, we're closer to the motel now, so let's keep going.” He pushes past Noctis, undoing Ignis's seatbelt and hooking one arm under Ignis's legs, and one behind his back. “Noctis, you drive.”

Noctis shakes his head. “I'm staying with Ignis.”

Gladio doesn't have it in him to argue, so he says, “You're up, Prompto.”

“Right.”

They get Ignis into the backseat, his head cradled in Noctis's lap. He stays asleep the whole time, though his brow is furrowed like it isn't particularly restful. Gladio will be glad when they get to the motel and can get Ignis into a real bed.

He settles into the front passenger seat and Prompto hops behind the wheel, and they speed off toward Longwythe.

* * *

Ignis wakes up a couple times, but he doesn't remember almost any of them.

He's made to drink water each time, and he's pretty sure at one point someone helped maneuver him into the bathroom. But the whole thing is such a blur, he can't separate one waking moment from the next; it all gets jumbled together in his head, making no sense. So he doesn't try.

The first time he wakes up and is actually coherent, it's starting to get light outside.

Morning, he realizes, and suppresses a groan. Time to get up. He needs to prepare breakfast, then go over their expenses, and make sure he actually got the correct supplies during his embarrassing display at Hammerhead yesterday. But moving at all feels like such a chore. Even though he must have slept through the night, all he feels now is utterly exhausted.

He lays there a bit longer, as the sun starts to creep over the sheets. No one else has stirred yet, not that he can hear, so he thinks he might be able to get away with just a little sleeping in. Just a few more minutes...

Noctis suddenly walking into his field of vision startles him into alertness. Since when is Noctis up before he is!? It must be later than he thought.

“Noct,” he says, and it comes out garbled and weak. He swallows and is pleased to find that it's not as difficult as it was a few hous ago.

Noctis stops whatever he was doing and crouches at the side of the bed immediately, peering with worried (guilty?) eyes into Ignis's face.

“Hey, Specs,” he says softly, a little breathless. “How you feelin'?”

The honest answer to that question is that he feels like a steaming pile of shit. So Ignis forces back the honest answer, and goes with, “Well enough. I was about to get up and make breakfast.”

“No, that's okay. Stay in bed.” Noctis reaches out, rubs Ignis's arm gently. “Turns out this motel has a continental breakfast. Gladio went and got us a bunch of muffins.”

“Yes, well. Muffins are hardly a meal.”

He tries to push himself up, but Noctis's gentle rubbing turns into a stern push, and Ignis finds himself being lowered back onto the mattress. “Seriously, Ignis. Just rest for now, okay?”

“I assure you, Noct, I am _fine_.”

“No, you really clearly _aren't_!” Noctis snaps back at him, his voice raising, and Ignis is taken aback.

Suddenly he realizes he can't remember getting here to the motel. The last thing he remembers is driving through Leide.

He must look confused, because Noctis's face goes from angry to surprised. “Do you remember what happened?”

_What happened_. Ignis closes his eyes and shakes his head.

“You passed out in the car.”

He abruptly opens his eyes again, sick terror running through him. “I... what?”

“You passed out. Prompto had to climb in your lap to stop the car from running off the road.”

Ignis gapes at him, stunned. He can't believe he did that. He fell asleep at the wheel. He could have gotten them all killed. He could have gotten _Noctis_ killed. What was he thinking? How could he let himself do that?

He must look pretty upset. Noctis does, too, and he reaches down to grab Ignis's hand with one of his own.

“I'm sorry,” he chokes out, knowing it's not enough. “I... I don't know what came over me, but-”

“No, Ignis, it was my fault.” Noctis closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them again. “I shouldn't have made you drive us all the way out here. I should have just agreed to the caravan.”

“No, this is entirely due to my own oversight.” Ignis gives his head a shake. “I shouldn't have agreed to drive when I knew I was in no condition to. I should have done something to improve my condition, first, and then-”

“No, Ignis,” says Noctis firmly, before pausing. “I mean, yeah. You should definitely tell us if you're too tired to drive from now on. But this is on us, too. We put too much on you and expected you to just... handle it.”

“I _should_ have been able to handle it,” Ignis snaps, angry with himself, that he allowed this to happen. That he allowed Noctis to look so worried. “Nothing that you asked of me was too much-”

“Just stop, Ignis,” Noctis pleads, and he does stop, voice trailing off. “You're not invincible, okay? You can't just keep... powering through everything, with no rest.” He sighs, looking down. “I know we're all assholes who take you for granted, but... you gotta let us know when you need to stop, okay? You can't push yourself like this.”

He reaches out, threading his fingers through Ignis's hair. It feels nice, and Ignis can't help but close his eyes and enjoy the touch, for just a moment.

“Just tell us, okay? When you're tired, or hungry, or if you just feel lousy and need a break. We want to help you, too.” A pause, and Ignis can hear the small grin in Noctis's voice. “We're all big boys, right? You don't have to do _everything_ for us.”

Ignis opens his eyes and looks into Noctis's. “That's doubtful,” he says, but his tone is teasing, and some of the tension falls out of Noctis's shoulders. “But... yes. I suppose right now I...” It's harder to get the words out than he would have thought, but Noctis is patient, waiting with his fingers still in Ignis's hair. “I _am_ very tired, and I'm not sure I can see to breakfast this morning.”

“Like I said, muffins.” Noctis grins, and moves his hand back down to rub Ignis's arm again. “Take all the time you need, Specs. We rented out the room a couple days, so just take it easy and sleep.”

Everything in Ignis's head is screaming at him that no, they can't take the time to wait on him, and he should just suck it up and get moving – but every other part of him is begging to stay on the soft mattress, covered by warm sheets, for just awhile longer. And Noctis said he could, and is looking at him expectantly, and Ignis is so tired and he thinks that maybe, this time, it would be okay to ignore his mind for once.

“I think I will.” He yawns, consciousness suddenly feeling impossible now that he's agreed to sleeping.

“Good.” Noctis gives his arm one more pat, then leans back, not leaving just yet, and Ignis closes his eyes, and lets himself drift.


End file.
